Prumano drabbles
by SayaLeigh
Summary: A collection of my Prumano oneshots from tumblr. Some aren't exactly drabbles, but I do try to keep them short. Includes Christmas parties, domestic mornings, and eventual Pottertalia.
1. Endlessly

**A/N:** This was a secret santa fic for jackce back in 2013. The song used is "Endlessly" by The Cab.

* * *

 _"Endlessly"_

No matter how many friends Feliciano brought along, Lovino would always feel like a third wheel when the younger Italian dragged him along on outings with his German "friend." Besides that, the strange, quiet Japanese boy sitting across from him hardly counted as company. Lovino sighed and focused on his glass of wine again-it was already beginning to look emptier than he would have liked.

"Hey, Lud!" a new, unfamiliar voice called suddenly. Lovino looked up, grateful for any sort of distraction.

A man who must have only been a year or two older than Lovino was pushing his way across the room, a wide grin stretched over his pale features. He had silvery-white hair and crimson eyes ringed with thick eyeliner. Paired with the black leather jacket, ripped jeans, and Guns 'n' Roses t-shirt, he looked...fantastic, actually. Lovino cast a suspicious glance at his wine. The alcohol content wasn't that high, was it?

"Gilbert," the blond German replied simply. He smiled up at the newcomer, somehow managing to look both welcoming and exasperated. The albino clapped a hand on his shoulder, still grinning.

"Sorry I can't stay, but I figured I'd check out this kid my little brother is always going on about," the man, Gilbert, explained, "This him?" He gestured to Feliciano, who Ludwig was sitting noticeably closest too. A few more inches and the young Italian would probably have been draped over the burly German's arm.

"Ja, this is Feliciano," Ludwig introduced with a small but noticeable blush, "Feliciano, this is my brother, Gilbert."

"Nice to meet you!" Feliciano chirped, smiling brightly up at the older German, who returned the sentiment.

"What about these two?" Gilbert asked, jerking his head toward the other two at the table. Lovino's stomach flipped as their eyes met and he scowled defensively.

"Hello. My name is Honda Kiku," Kiku introduced himself with a small nod, seemingly unfazed by the almost predatory crimson gaze.

"And the rude one is my big brother, Lovino," Feliciano piped up again, causing Lovino's scowl to reroute itself to him. Feliciano shrunk back slightly and didn't say anything else.

"Schön," Gilbert commented, unfazed. Lovino wasn't sure what he'd said, and his scowl deepened self-consciously.

"Anyway, I gotta run," Gilbert said after a moment, straightening up, "Roddy refuses to play bass, so we've gotta find someone else. Can't have a rock band without a bassist, right? Tchüss!"

"I can play." Lovino spoke without thinking as the man turned to leave. He wasn't lying, but he hadn't meant to say anything either. He cursed mentally as Gilbert turned back to look at him, eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Yeah?" he asked, a note of eagerness creeping into his voice, "Come on then!" He grabbed Lovino's arm and pulled him to his feet, barely giving him time to slam down the wine glass. Lovino hoped he hadn't damaged the delicate stem.

"Bruder!" Ludwig called after him, starting to push himself to his feet. His expression changed to one of concern as he watched his brother drag the older Italian away.

"Don't worry, Luddy!" Gilbert called back, his tone singsong, "I'll keep him safe, have him home by midnight, blah, blah, blah!" Then, still grinning, he successfully dragged the brunet from the building.

"So, Kid, how old are you anyway?" he asked, finally releasing Lovino when he was sure the other wouldn't turn back. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it before stuffing his hands in his pockets. When Lovino still hadn't answered by the time the first ashes had fallen from the end of the white cylinder, he raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"Don't call me kid," Lovino grumbled finally, "I'm fucking twenty-two."

"Twenty-two what?" Gilbert couldn't help but ask with a grin. He put his hands up in surrender at the glare Lovino shot him. "Alright, if 'kid' is off limits, what do I call you? You can just call me Gil."

"How about you use my damn name," Lovino grumbled back, stuffing his own hands in his pockets. It was a bit cold, and since he'd been planning on spending the night indoors, he'd left his coat at the apartment and worn a turtleneck instead.

"Here," Gil said suddenly, noticing his shivering. He pulled off the leather jacket and threw it over Lovino's shoulders, leaving himself in only the faded t-shirt.

"What the hell? Are you fucking stupid?" Lovino asked, gaping for a minute before whipping it off and throwing it back at him, "At least my arms are covered! Don't be some kind of self-sacrificing idiot!" He huffed, glaring at the other with his arms crossed over his chest. He hated when people sacrificed their own comfort unnecessarily.

Gilbert laughed loudly, throwing his head back, and shrugged the jacket back on. "Alright, alright," he replied in a tone that was probably supposed to pacify Lovino, "I like you, Lovino. You're fiery."

Lovino didn't reply. Instead, he huffed and crossed his arms moodily over his chest. Gil just shrugged and tugged his arm gently, leading him over to an old, beat-up car. The paint was faded and it was clearly German-made, but Lovino found himself thinking that it suited its owner.

Gil dropped into the old vehicle and leaned over, unlocking the passenger side door for Lovino. The Italian only hesitated for a moment before climbing in. He told himself it was because he was grateful to be out of the wind.

The radio blasted as Gil turned the key, making Lovino flinch slightly and wonder what he was getting into. He didn't have anything against rock music, but he wasn't particularly in favor of it either. After a few minutes-and Gil's scratchy, off-key, but incredibly enthusiastic accompaniment-he found himself warming up to it.

It only took a few songs before they were pulling up outside a small white house. Lovino didn't think it could be Gil's; the German didn't seem the type to keep anything looking this good. The paint looked fresh, the grass looked as if it had been cut that day, and even the flowerbeds looked well-kept and weed-free.

"Whose house is this?" he found himself asking, peering through the windshield.

"My friend Francis," Gil answered with a shrug, getting out of the car, "You coming?"

Lovino scrambled to follow him. Apprehension was beginning to set in, and Gilbert-stranger though he was-happened to be the only familiar thing in the area. He kept close to the albino's side as he was led up to the door.

Gil didn't even pause to knock. He threw the door open, and Lovino flinched as it slammed against the wall.

"Yo, Fr-!" Gil started, but was cut off by a loud, angry screech from the other room.

"Beilschmidt, what did I tell you about that door!?"

Gil offered Lovino a sheepish smile as another man stormed out of what looked like the kitchen from where Lovino stood. He had long, blond hair pulled into a ponytail, stubble on his chin, and flashing blue eyes. Catching sight of Lovino, he paused and the anger in his expression was replaced by confusion. "Who's the catch, cher?" he asked in a softly accented voice, seemingly forgetting about the door for the moment.

"Brother of that kid Luddy's been talking about. Says he can play bass," Gil explained with a grin. He wrapped an arm around Lovino's shoulders, which the Italian shrugged off instinctively.

"That means hands off, by the way," Gil added as he moved deeper into the house. Somehow, Lovino didn't think he was referring to physical touch. The warning in Gilbert's tone and answering pout on the blond's face only contributed to his suspicions.

He was quickly introduced to the airheaded Spaniard who-according to Gil-played drums, Antonio, and he learned that the blond was Francis. Somewhere, they found an out-of-tune bass. Lovino managed to stop them from making it worse and tuned it himself, declaring himself ready after a few minutes.

Gil, suddenly serious for the first time since Lovino had met him, sat next to him with an electric guitar in his own hands. He spent a few moments explaining their intended sound to Lovino, playing a few notes to help the explanation along. Lovino picked it up quickly, playing with him. The three older men were grinning by the time the first half hour was up, Gil brightest of all.

"Welcome to the Bad Touch Eagles, Lovino," Gil cheered, wrapping an arm around the Italian.

"That's a stupid name," Lovino retorted, shrugging him off.

"It's part of the look," Gil insisted, hand on his hip. In his other hand, he held a small tube of black liquid eyeliner.

"For you, maybe, but I don't need that shit," Lovino retorted, wrinkling his nose at the makeup. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he wore a loose t-shirt despite the chill of the January air outside. It was one of Gil's, but the albino had practically forced it on him. The Italian had argued fiercely, but Gil had been determined to see him in the shirt. He couldn't explain it-or rather, he didn't want to try-but he wanted to see Lovino in his clothing, in his house, anything that connected the two of them.

Hence their current predicament.

"C'mon, Lovino~" Gil whined, taking another step closer. Lovino took a step back, but backed into a chair and fell into it with a decidedly unmanly squeak. Gil grinned and advanced quickly, taking the Italian's beautiful face in his hands. "Come on, it's not that bad," he murmured, leaning in.

Lovino's expressive face colored immediately and he shut his mouth, speaking with his eyes instead. He glared up at Gil, looking more nervous than angry or offended. Gil just smiled at him, knowing his grin wasn't particularly soothing but hoping it would do the trick anyway.

It seemed to work. Lovino rolled his eyes but relaxed, tilting his head up slightly to give Gil better access to his face. Surprised but pleased, Gil studied him for a moment before trying anything.

Lovino's skin was soft and tan, accenting his chestnut hair beautifully. It was so different from Gil's own pale features that the albino found himself stopping to stare sometimes when Lovino turned to him, eyes flashing with annoyance. Those eyes were something else entirely-bright hazel, framed by dark, thick lashes, always projecting emotion of some kind. When he smiled and his eyes sparkled with pleasure, Gil sometimes found himself unable to breathe.

"Hurry up, bastard," Lovino grumbled, his eyes still closed. Gil snorted at his impatience.

"Ja, ja, keep your pants on, Schätz," he replied. He hoped Lovino wouldn't understand the pet name that had slipped out, and he found himself fighting down a blush of his own. He hadn't meant to let anything like that slip, and if it ruined the relationship he'd managed to build with Lovino...

Lovino just huffed, apparently unaware of the meaning behind the German. Gil took a deep breath to calm himself and uncapped the eyeliner. His hand shook slightly, and he wasn't sure if it was a medical thing or the fact what he was so close to his crush. He gently rested the heel of his hand on Lovino's cheekbone to steady it and touched the brush to the Italian's eyelid.

Lovino hissed at the cool sensation, jerking back and causing the thin black line to go off to the side wildly.

"Lovino," Gilbert groaned, taking the man's face in his hands to hold him still.

"That shit's cold," Lovino protested, glaring at him. Gil chuckled at the unintentional design on his face.

"Well, now you know," he replied, trying to sound soothing, "So close your eyes."

Lovino huffed again but complied, his face taking on the same serene composure it had held before Gil started. Holding his chin with one hand, the albino finished drawing the line across the upper lid. He repeated the action on the other eye, then darkened the lower lid with a crayon liner.

"There," he said finally, pleased with his work, "Now, let me just clean up the mistake..." He held Lovino's head gently, wetting his thumb against his tongue and gently dragging it across the lid, erasing the line that streaked off to nowhere.

Satisfied, he studied Lovino's face again. The eyeliner looked good, but then, what didn't on Lovino? His breath came a little faster as he realized how close they were. If he just leaned in...

He gasped softly and pulled back, blushing. "Looks good," he told Lovino quickly, hoping he didn't sound too strange, "I'm gonna go help Toni with that thing he was complaining about, 'kay?" Without waiting for an answer, he scurried from the room.

Lovino wasn't sure what to think when he saw the notebook sitting out of the counter. He recognized Gilbert's handwriting, but the German was tidier than he seemed and it wasn't like him to leave his things out. Curious, Lovino stepped closer to get a better look.

It looked like poetry or, more likely, lyrics. Gil's familiar handwriting slanted across the page, scratchy but neat. He glanced around, not sure Gil would want him to see these-especially not before they were finished. Seeing no one, he picked up the notebook and leaned back against the counter.

 _There's a shop down the street,_

 _Where they sell plastic rings,_

 _For a quarter a piece,_

 _I swear it,_

 _Yeah I know that it's cheap,_

 _Not like gold in your dreams,_

 _But I hope that you'll still wear it._

 _Yeah, the ink may stain my skin_

 _And my jeans may all be ripped,_

 _I'm not perfect but I swear_

 _I'm perfect for you-_

"Whe-Hey, Lovino!"

Lovino jumped at Gil's voice suddenly ringing out behind him. Before he could move, a long, muscular arm snaked around him and snatched the notepad from his hand. Lovino turned to find his nose inches from Gil's, but the hurt expression on the albino's face made the situation less enjoyable than it might normally have been.

"S-sorry," Lovino stuttered out immediately, "It was just sitting out-"

"That doesn't mean you can read it," Gil protested, cutting him off. His eyes were wide and slightly panicked, and he held the notebook to his chest, lyrics down.

Lovino couldn't help the defensive side of him that sprang up in response to being cut off. "Maybe you shouldn't leave your shit lying around then," he snapped back, ignoring the way Gil was looking at him. He frowned and glared, stalking over to the fridge for something to distract himself.

Gilbert continued to stand where Lovino had left him, sputtering. Lovino tried to ignore him, but it was a little hard when the reaction had left him feeling hurt as well. He kept his back to Gilbert, hoping neither Antonio nor Francis walked in on the little spat. Their jokes were annoying enough without adding the "old married couple" cliché he knew would come from this.

Gilbert finally stopped trying to come up with something to say, and a heavy silence hung over the kitchen. Lovino still didn't turn away from the fridge, though he'd stopped trying to find something to stuff his mouth with a few minutes ago. Finally, he closed it and started to stalk out of the room.

"Lovino-" Gil tried as the Italian swept past him.

"For what it's worth," Lovino spoke over him, "It's good." Leaving it at that, he continued on the way to another room in the house. He didn't care where at the moment; just somewhere that Gilbert Beilschmidt wasn't.

Gil would be lying if he said he hadn't expected to hear Lovino before he saw him. The difference was, he had expected the Italian to be yelling or cursing-definitely not singing. In the months they'd been working together and hanging out, Gil hadn't heard him so much as hum a line as he played it. However, there was no mistaking the familiar lilt of the beautiful tenor voice coming from down the hall.

As he got closer, he began to make out the words. His face burned as he recognized them as the words he'd written on the page with no intention of sharing, now drifting to him from down the hall. They sounded better and he'd ever dared to imagine.

" _I'm no angel, I'm just me, but I will love you endlessly_ -"

"You've been holding out on us, huh?"

Lovino squeaked and jumped, whirling around to face Gil with wide eyes. "Sh-shut up," he snapped, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Gil knew him well enough by now to recognize his tone and posture as defensive. He grinned, taking another few steps into the room until he was face-to-face with the shorter brunet. "Aw, come on," he fake pouted, "If we'd known you could sing like that, we wouldn't make the fans listen to my caterwauling every night."

Lovino rolled his eyes and pushed him aside, apparently deciding it wasn't necessary to point out that Gil could sound incredible when he wanted to. Gil spun to keep his eyes on Lovino, his smirk fading a bit. "I didn't mean to freak out on you," he admitted, his way of apologizing, "It's just...those lyrics were personal..."

Lovino glanced over his shoulder, rolling his eyes. "I thought all lyrics were personal?" he bit back pointedly.

Gil flushed, not wanting to explain further. Instead, he decided to revert back to his teasing. "So," he began, moving into Lovino's personal space again, "What's the deal with keeping those vocals from us? Saving them to serenade chicks?"

Lovino's blush deepened and he pushed Gil away again. "Like you even care, asshole. Last I heard, you were doing fine on your own."

Gil snorted, amused by the response. "What, you sit around with Francis talking about my sex life?" he joked. It would almost be endearing if it wasn't sort of creepy-and if Francis wasn't involved. Gilbert loved him, but he did come across a bit sketchy at times.

"Of course not!" Lovino sputtered, cutting off his train of thought. He hurled a sofa pillow at the albino, which Gil caught.

"You know, I don't think that's what they meant by 'throw pillow,'" he commented, tossing it back. Lovino knocked it out of the air.

"Okay, seriously. What's eating you?" Gil asked, dropping the playful manner. He leaned over the back of the couch, where Lovino had flopped down after karate-chopping the poor pillow to the floor.

"Nothing," Lovino grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Not that you don't complain about everything, but this seems different," Gil told him seriously, leaning down so he was eye-level with Lovino. The brunet turned away. Gil bit his lip and decided to take a chance.

"If it's about the song..." he began quietly, "It's...about you..."

Lovino's head turned faster than Gil had ever seen anyone move, and he was caught in the wide, shocked hazel eyes. "Wh-why...?" he gasped out, and Gil thought-or hoped-he heard something like hope under the surprise.

"Lovino," he murmured, his voice and smile almost tired, "You really don't think my brother's the only one with a thing for Italians, do you? Where do you think he got it?" He smiled, trying to make light of the situation in case he'd misread the atmosphere. He wasn't as hopeless at it as his American friend, but he wasn't as observant as Kiku either.

Lovino rolled his eyes, and his heart sank for a moment. "Idiota..." the brunet grumbled, "If...if you mean it...baciami..."

Gil wasn't sure what that meant, but it was easy enough to interpret from the look in Lovino's eyes, which held his gaze with surprising steadiness. He quickly leaned in, pressing his lips to Lovino's, and his mind went blank.

They separated a few minutes later, breathing heavily. "Damn," Gil breathed, climbing over the back of the couch to drop into the spot next to Lovino, "Do all Italians kiss like that?"

Lovino snorted and shrugged. "I don't know, and I hope you don't plan to find out," he replied, his words both answer and warning. Gil just grinned and took his hand, leaning over to peck the corner of his mouth before turning on the TV and channel surfing. After a moment, Lovino's head dropped onto his shoulder.


	2. It Wasn't Supposed To Be a Date

**A/N:** This one was written for Curreeus for the 2014 Prumano secret santa. The prompt was "spying on GerIta but realizing they're more interested in each other instead."

* * *

 _"It Wasn't Supposed To Be a Date"_

"Play nice, okay?" Feliciano chirped, his eyes sparking as he looked over his brother and Prussia. His eyes lingered on the way Prussia's arm rested over Romano's shoulders. He was pleased to see the older Italian wasn't shrugging it off, but part of him wondered how long that would last. He waved and began dragging Germany off, already chattering about inane things.

When they were out of earshot, Feliciano sighed and let the chatter die out. The couple walked in silence for a moment, and Feliciano let his grip loosen until he was just holding Germany's hand.

"Think they'll figure it out?" he asked after a moment, looking up at the blond hopefully.

"No," Germany admitted, "but hopefully they'll get a little closer. Then again, if they do, Prussia won't shut up about it. I don't really need to hear the color of your brother's underwear or what type of drinks he prefers."

Veneziano giggled, not finding his boyfriend's comments offensive at all. The reaction didn't surprise Germany, but he did roll his eyes before leaning down to peck Veneziano's lips.

"Let's focus on us for now, ja?"

* * *

"Should we follow them?"  
"At least wait a few minutes, dammit," Lovino snorted, shoving the Prussian's arm off him. He shot the taller ex-nation an annoyed look, leaving his side to grab his jacket. Prussia watched him quietly, raising one thin silver brow.

"So, we are going?" he asked after a moment, his hands shoved into his pockets as he watched the Italian bustle around the room.

"Of course," Lovino replied with a snort, already standing by the door with his hand on the knob, "Are you coming or not?"

"Hell yeah!" Prussia chirped, practically bouncing after Romano. The brunet rolled his eyes, locking the door behind them. He headed for his Vespa, but Gilbert grabbed his arm, his expression serious.

"No way in hell am I letting you drive," he insisted, his expression unusually serious. Romano opened his mouth to argue, but Prussia had already snatched his keys out of his hand.

Romano snarled, arguing as he followed the other man. Prussia wasn't listening though, and he was holding the keys over his head so there was no way the Italian could get to them. It didn't stop him from kicking Prussia, but it didn't have any effect other than making him wince and glare at Romano.  
"Okay, where do you think they're going first?" Prussia asked when he'd settled behind the wheel. Romano sulked in the passenger's seat, slumped down so far that from the front, it wouldn't have looked like anyone else was in the car. He shot a glare at Prussia for daring to ask him anything after taking the keys and refused to answer. Prussia's only response was a put-upon sigh; he was just trying to strike up conversation anyway.

"Okay, fine. West made a schedule on his laptop anyway," he huffed, focusing on the road again.  
They pulled up to the restaurant in a few minutes, though Lovino's spiteful side reminded him that they would have been there sooner if he'd been driving, though he might have broken a few traffic laws in the process.

"Come on," Prussia urged, jumping out of the car, "Let's scope out the place."  
"It's a _restaurant_ ," Romano snapped finally, "Just walk in. It's not like they'll notice with all those fucking people in there."

"Nah, come on!" Prussia whined, "It's been forever since I got to do anything cool like this. Humor me."

Romano rolled his eyes, but let Prussia drag him over to a window. Veneziano and Germany were waiting to be seated, the Italian bouncing from foot to foot and babbling while the blond watched him with a patient, affectionate expression. Romano had to admit, there was something between them that he might have been a little jealous of.

Prussia grabbed his arm again, dragging him into the building. Romano let out a hiss of irritation, but again, he let himself be dragged. Why, he wasn't sure. Maybe he could use the excitement.

Prussia darted just inside the door to a small alcove, taking Romano with him. There was no chance of their brothers seeing them here, but there wasn't a whole lot of room to move either.

"Fuck! You're on my foot!" Romano hissed, digging his elbow into Prussia side. He got a hiss in response, which was strangely satisfying.

"Shit! It's not like there's a lot of room in here," Prussia hissed back. His hands settled on Romano's hips, gently shifting him aside so they could both squeeze into the small space.

They both peeked around the corner, watching their brothers wait for a table together. They didn't seem to be doing anything, and Romano found his mind wandering to the comfortable warmth pressed against his back. He usually wasn't this close to anyone he didn't consider family, and it was...nice.

"Hey, where do you think they're going?" Prussia suddenly asked in his ear. Romano jumped; he hadn't even noticed the other two were on the move.

"Probably to their table, dammit. Maybe you should get off my feet and follow them." Prussia wasn't even on his foot anymore, but he didn't want to let on that he hadn't been watching for a while.

Prussia scoffed and pushed past him, making the Italian frown and hurry after him.  
"Sirs?" asked a voice, stopping them before they could get more than a few feet. Reluctantly, both nations paused and turned to look back at the woman who had spoken. "I'm sorry, but you can't go further without a host. Do you have a reservation?"  
"What? No," Prussia answered immediately, and Romano resisted the urge to roll his eyes. If they'd just lied and said they wanted to see if the person they were meeting was here or something, they could have slipped past. Now, there would be no chance of that.

"Table for two?" the girl asked, already reaching for menus.

"Yes," Romano replied instantly, not wanting to give Prussia another chance to screw things up. They didn't have to get anything anyway. The girl led them to a table, and Romano found himself torn between the way the low light bathed her dark skin and the way it lit up Prussia's lighter features. He couldn't help but think that he definitely wasn't supposed to feel like this. He scowled the entire way to their table.

Sitting down, he shifted awkwardly in his seat, glancing across the table at Prussia. Damn, now it looked like they were on a date. Worse, they were both completely underdressed for a place like this.

"What are you getting?" Gilbert asked, as if his biggest concern was the menu. Lovino scowled, watching the albino study his options. How could he be so damn calm!?

"Who cares?" he hissed back, "We're not really going to eat here, are we?"

Prussia looked up at him in surprise, raising a brow. "Why not?" he asked simply, "We're here, aren't we? I'll pay."

That got Lovino to pause. Prussia offering free food?

"With what money?" he asked finally, "Don't you live in your brother's basement?"

Prussia frowned, suddenly looking less enthusiastic. "Hey, gimme a break," he whined, "Just because I live with West doesn't mean I don't make any money."

Lovino sighed, trying not to feel guilty about his comments. He wouldn't feel this way if he'd snapped at England like that...The thought was unsettling.

"Fine. Does that mean I get to order the most expensive thing on the menu?"

Prussia frowned again. "I didn't mean that either. Can't you just be decent for once?"

Romano hoped Prussia didn't notice his wince. Letting out a huff, he flipped his menu up to hide his face.

"Hey, what-Oh, come on. I can't keep myself entertained!"

Romano peeked over the top of the menu, shooting him a more composed look of irritation. "I thought you were so awesome that you could do anything," he retorted.

"Well, yeah, but that doesn't mean I want to. I never get to see you, so give me something to go off of."

Another pointed look. "I see you every time I go looking for Veneziano. That's more than most of the others."

Prussia let out a heavy sigh, giving Romano a pointed look of his own. "Look, I think you're pretty cool. Almost awesome, even. I want to hang out with you, but it's pretty one-sided if you won't talk to me."

Romano stared at him for a moment, wanting to be critical despite the way his heartbeat picked up.

"Don't get sappy," he replied finally, "We're not the ones on a date."

"But we kind of are."

"No, we're not."

Prussia pouted, prompting Romano to roll his eyes again. It was like taking a child to a nice restaurant.

"Okay, fine. Not a date. But can we please talk? People are going to think you don't like me."

Romano gave an exaggerated sigh, but nodded. Finished with his menu, he put it aside and focused on Prussia. It was almost sad how something so small made him look so delighted; he wondered idly how often people actually took the time to talk to Prussia instead of his brother.

"Great!" the albino gushed, leaning forward like he was about to tell some fascinating story or something, "Where do you think they're going next? I mean, a Christmas date's got to be special, right?"

Romano snorted, shaking his head. "Please, your brother's too stuffy and mine is happy enough just being in the same room. They'll just do what they always do," he replied confidently. He sat back so he could see the couple across the room, twirling a fork between his fingers as he did so. Germany was leaning over to wipe something from Veneziano's mouth with his napkin, making Romano scowl—first of all, how had his brother managed to make a mess already!?

Before he could comment on it, a waiter approached and redirected his train of thought. The man seemed to assume they were a couple, and Romano decided it was too much trouble to correct him. Besides, it wasn't as if he didn't have a reason to think that way—two men getting together for lunch said business; getting together for dinner screamed date.

The two ordered their entrees and alcohol, though the fact that they didn't get a single bottle of wine for the two of them seemed to confuse the waiter. Romano wondered how things would have been if they were dating—would he have let Prussia show his lack of refined taste by getting a cheap beer like he had?

Honestly, he had no idea. Maybe he would have let him do whatever he wanted, as long as he seemed happy.

Dammit.

Prussia pouted, making Romano's stomach flip. What the fuck was that? He wasn't supposed to look so damn cute…

"Okay, fine. So, they're just going to eat until Italy can't move, then West will carry him to a movie or something, and then they'll go out for coffee," the Prussian summarized, either not noticing or ignoring Romano's wide-eyed stare, "Man, if it were anyone else, that would be so boring!"

"Yeah, well, they're not the most creative jerks…" Lovino grumbled finally, sulking a little as he recovered from his own surprise. He should just ditch Prussia and go find some pretty girl to flirt with until he forgot about that damn pout and his bright eyes and the way he was grinning and…well, everything. It was Christmas, so there had to be some lonely girl out there whose night he could make, right?

"Hey, are you even listening to me?" Prussia demanded suddenly. Romano jumped and squeaked, realizing Prussia had leaned in until their noses were centimeters apart.

"What? Of course I'm listening!" he retorted, his voice going a little higher than usual.

Prussia sniffed disdainfully, but settled back down in his seat after a moment. "Okay, then what did I say?"

"Ah…Okay, so maybe I spaced out for a minute. But just a minute!"

Prussia rolled his eyes, but his irritation seemed to fade quickly. "I asked if you wanted to see whatever movie they're going to go to or if we should find something better to do," he repeated.

Romano lifted one slim, dark brow dubiously. "What could we possibly do together that would be better than making sure our brothers don't pull some stupid shit?" he asked, his tone a bit more scathing than he'd intended, "Let's just…finish what we started."

Prussia looked almost hurt for a moment, but again, the expression was gone before Romano could even process it. He grinned instead, looking up as their food came. He seemed almost relieved for the distraction, and for some reason, that didn't sit well with Romano.

He picked at his food, pretending to savor the flavor instead of just forcing it into his mouth. The place really was one of the best, but Romano was having trouble enjoying the outing. The food was good and, in his case, free, and he couldn't help the annoyance that pricked at him at the fact that he couldn't enjoy it. It didn't take him long to decide it must be Prussia's fault.

"Hey, are you alright?" the man in question asked suddenly, reaching out and pressing the back of his hand to Romano's forehead before the Italian could stop him. Romano jumped and flushed, pulling away from Prussia's cool fingers.

"I'm fine," he grumbled, knocking his hand away. Prussia bit back a sigh, falling silent and stabbing his steak almost violently. Romano wondered if he was feeling the same unsettled frustration the Italian was.

"Shit, they're getting ready to move," Prussia started suddenly, his crimson eyes widening as he sat up straight and stared across the room. Romano followed his gaze; sure enough, Germany was asking for the check. When he turned back, Prussia was doing the same.

"We're not wasting this food," Romano hissed, balking at the thought despite the fact that he hadn't even been enjoying it. Prussia rolled his eyes, but asked for a couple of boxes as well.

Somehow, they managed to get out of there only a minute or so after their brothers. Lovino opened his mouth to demand the keys, but before he could say anything, Prussia shot him a sharp look and stuffed the boxes into his hands.

"Just be glad you get shotgun."

Lovino scowled, but followed him and let him open the door for him. Grumbling in Italian, he slumped into the passenger's seat and turned to put the food in the backseat. Prussia glanced at it, raising a brow, but then shrugged and turned back to the front.

"If that falls, the mess is your problem, not mine," he told Lovino, his tone easygoing but not leaving any room for argument.

"Sure, whatever," Romano grumbled noncommittally.

They rode in silence, whatever companionship had begun to emerge quickly disappearing again. Lovino wasn't going to fight that. It wasn't like he wanted to have any kind of relationship—er, friendship—with Prussia…right?

He heaved an annoyed sigh, causing the blond to look at him curiously. He didn't offer an explanation, and luckily, Prussia didn't ask. Unfortunately, the silence was eating away at him much like the stupid comments of those around him usually did, and finally, he snapped.

"Don't you usually play music or something?" he asked sharply, "I thought you had a reputation for trying to take out everybody's eardrums or something."

Again, Prussia glanced at him in surprise. "Uh, I didn't know if you wanted me to? I mean, it's your car."

"I know that," the Italian grumbled, reaching out and hitting the button to turn on the radio. As expected, cheesy Christmas music began playing from the speakers. Oh, right, that's why he'd been avoiding it lately.

Of course, Prussia's eyes lit up at the first strains of "A Holly Jolly Christmas," and he broke into loud accompaniment almost immediately. Romano's only response was to bang his head against the back of the seat.

"Kiss _him_ once for me!" Prussia sang, emphasizing the changed word and grinning like a maniac. They stopped at a light just then, and just as Lovino had feared, Prussia leaned over and kissed him.

On the cheek, sure, but it was still enough to make him yelp and jump away in the limited space as Prussia laughed.

"What the hell, bastard!?"

"Face it, you need to loosen up," Gilbert told him bluntly, snorting in amusement, "Or at least get laid. I can help with that too, if you want?" He gave an exaggerated wink, making Lovino blush and earning himself a punch in the arm.

"Asshole," he grumbled, slouching down in the seat and glaring out at the storefronts.

"Aw, I'm just trying to help," Prussia whined, fake-pouting. This time, Lovino had the sense to ignore him.

They pulled up at the theater, parking a couple rows from their brothers and watching them go to buy the tickets.

"Shit!" Romano burst out suddenly, making Prussia jump this time.

"What?" he asked, looking around wildly before focusing on Romano again.

"If we just sit here, we won't know what they picked," the Italian pointed out, worrying his lip with his teeth. Prussia stared at him for a moment, then snorted.

"Chill, okay?" he insisted, looking past Romano to watch their brothers disappear into the building, "We know them well enough to guess what they're seeing anyway. Besides, we can see something else if we want to anyway." He shrugged, and after glaring at him for a few minutes, Romano relaxed. He wasn't exactly wrong, after all…

"Hey, they should be busy enough that they won't notice us if we go in now," Prussia announced suddenly, moving to get out of the car. Romano hurried to follow him, though he was still frowning.

"Are you sure?" he asked suspiciously, "I don't want to get caught. Your brother will see right through us, and mine will get the wrong idea."

Prussia frowned at that, shooting him an irritated look. "You can play it off, can't you?" he asked, his voice a little sharper than Romano was used to, "Or is hanging out with me too disgusting to consider?"

Again, Romano felt that unfamiliar flicker of guilt and glanced away. "That's not what I mean…" he mumbled softly, "I just…"

He trailed off with a shrug. Prussia waited for a moment, then seemed to realize he wasn't going to get an explanation. Romano's heart sank and he trudged along after the blond, pulling his coat a little tighter around himself. He didn't mind Prussia that much, not really, but for some reason admitting it was harder than it should have been.

He let Prussia order the tickets, too wrapped up in his thoughts to give any input on what their brother's might be seeing. When he spotted the banner for Big Hero 6 though, he balked.

"This doesn't seem like the crap your brother would be into."

"It's not," Prussia admitted, "But Ita-cakes would like it, right? And West will pretty much do anything he asks." He shrugged, giving Romano's hand a little tug. This time, the southern Italian followed him reluctantly, trying to ignore the flicker of jealousy at Prussia's nickname for his brother.

In the darkness of the theater, they couldn't really see anything. Luckily, the commercials before the previews were playing, and in a flicker of light, Romano spotted their brothers about halfway up.

He also caught sight of the way Prussia's pale hair lit up in the muted light.

"You should be wearing a hat or something," he grumbled, prodding the older Germanic nation's side to get him moving. Prussia scowled at the insistent poking, but he pulled his hood up and led the way to the back row. Romano was sure they'd be spotted, but neither Germany nor Italy reacted as they passed.

It was only a few minutes into the previews, and Romano was already having trouble staying awake. He tugged on Prussia's arm as a childish pout puckered his lips, and the albino's cheeks colored lightly as he looked down at the Italian.

"Romano…?"

"Does your stupid brother always get here this early? I'm going to fall asleep before the fucking previews even start," Romano complained.

Prussia seemed to need a moment to process his words, but then he snorted and shook his head. "Go to sleep then," he replied bluntly, "Who knows, maybe it will do something to improve your shitty mood."

Romano scowled and turned to glare at the screen as the theater filled up around them. How had they not been spotted on the way in, anyway? It wasn't like Germany was short on time to assess the people around himself and Italy. Unless they already knew...Romano wouldn't put it past them.

As the commercials droned on, Romano's eyelids began to flutter shut after a moment. He didn't quite meet his prediction that he would fall asleep before the previews, but he was snoring against Prussia's shoulder long before the movie actually started.

* * *

"Hey, come on. If you don't wake up, we'll lose them."

Waking to Prussia's voice was…a different experience. Romano groaned softly, burying his face deeper in the source of warmth next to him. A sigh ruffled his hair, but he ignored it. It took a few minutes for Romano's mind to catch up, and when it finally did, he sat up reluctantly and ran a hand through his hair. The theater was completely empty around them.

"How long ago did they leave?" he asked, yawning.

"Not that long ago. Italy made West stay to the end of the credits," Prussia explained, standing and offering a hand. Hesitantly, Romano took it and let the Prussian pull him to his feet.

"They're going to a café next. Heard Italy say so," the blond continued, leading the way out. He didn't so much as glance back at Romano, which kind of annoyed the Italian. Normally the other nation liked to get in other people's faces, didn't he? Now, Romano had to hurry to keep up. Maybe he'd muttered something weird in his sleep that was bothering Prussia. It wouldn't be the first time he'd done something like that.

The silence lingered all the way to the car. If Romano had known how to break it, he would have. Instead, he gnawed his lip nervously and kept glancing over at the taller man. Neither of them tried to break the silence. Romano didn't know where to begin, and it didn't seem like Prussia wanted to talk to him anyway. Had he said something really weird? Maybe it was just because he'd fallen asleep. Prussia seemed like the type who would take offense to someone sleeping through a good movie.

"How was it, anyway?" Romano asked as nonchalantly as possible, glancing at the blond out of the corner of his eye. Prussia seemed unusually distracted, and Romano considered asking for the keys again. This time, he could at least make the argument that his driving might possibly be safer.

"Huh? Oh, it was awesome!" Prussia gushed, brightening immediately. He immediately launched into detailed descriptions of a few of his favorite scenes, and Romano was finally able to relax. He liked Prussia better like this, getting so childishly excited about things that Romano himself didn't particularly care for.

Prussia was still going on about it when they pulled in at the café, parking just in time to see their brothers heading through the door. Romano was sure they were being ignored now; his car was too flashy for the younger siblings to have completely missed it.

"Hey, are you paying this time?" Prussia asked suddenly, cutting himself off. Romano snorted at his short attention span, but shrugged.

"Sure," he agreed, "Why not?" He couldn't help but melt a little at the bright smile Prussia fixed him with, and he paused for a minute before getting out of the car.

Oh, right. That's why he put up with so much from the loud Germanic nation.

Inside, Prussia led the way to a secluded table, glancing back at Romano with a raised brow as they stopped in front of it. The Italian nodded and they sat, both darting glances at the younger couple sitting near the center of the room. They weren't even trying to hide, which only confirmed Romano's suspicions.

The conversation became more stifled again as they ordered and waited for their drinks. Romano began to feel uncomfortable again, glancing up at Prussia a few times before dropping his gaze to his napkin again. He kept twisting and refolding it, unable to keep his hands still in his nervousness. Finally, two large mugs of hot chocolate arrived, and Romano quickly hid his face in his mug.

"Why do you hate me, anyway?" Prussia asked suddenly, leaning forward and propping his elbows on the table.

Romano looked up, surprised. He hadn't expected a question like that-hell, he hadn't even realized that Prussia thought he felt that way.

"Why do you think I hate you?" he asked, trying to keep his voice light. He sipped his drink slowly, giving himself an excuse not to speak.

Prussia stared at him for a moment, his burgundy eyes widening. His mouth opened and closed a few times as he tried to formulate a response.

"But...don't you?" he managed finally.

Romano hesitated, but then shook his head. "I just...worry about Feliciano and how much time he spends with you guys. And I...got pushed around myself..." he mumbled, trailing off. He couldn't meet Prussia's gaze; it was hard enough just to admit that his attitude was more from fear than anything else.

The silence returned for a while, and Romano drank his hot chocolate quickly. He was too nervous to look at the Prussian again right now, afraid he would be fixed with a judgmental look.

"I'll be right back," Prussia said suddenly, standing and leaving the table.

Romano mentally cursed himself. Though they were supposed to be trailing their brothers, he'd started to think of this almost like a regular outing between friends, or even—though he would deny it at any opportunity—a date. Maybe he was as bad at reading the atmosphere as Veneziano after all.

Suddenly, Prussia's hand was on his, gently tugging him towards the entrance. Confused, Romano let himself be pulled along. He left the empty mug on the table, glad he was still wearing his jacket.

"What's with the dine and dash?" he asked, a little annoyed, "I thought I agreed to pay this time, anyway."

"I paid," Prussia replied shortly, but then he looked a little regretful of his sharp tone, "Just…trust me, okay?"

Romano nodded slowly, but wrapped his fingers around Prussia's in return. Somehow, he did trust him.

* * *

The younger brothers watched them go in silence for a moment, then exchanged a glance.

"I want to follow them," Veneziano began immediately.

"We're not going to," Germany replied immediately, shutting down his own Italian before he could start.

Veneziano pouted. "But if they kiss, I want to see it!"

Germany blushed and let out a quiet huff before turning patiently to Veneziano. "We'll hear about it later, and if they're really getting together, you'll see them kiss later."

Veneziano sulked, but Germany's gentle fingertips running through his hair quickly soothed him.

* * *

Prussia didn't speak to him until they were back in Veneziano's house, which was strangely silent compared to what Romano was used to. Germany and Veneziano were still out, making them completely unavailable when Prussia suddenly turned and pulled the little Italian into his arms.

Romano stiffened, but with Prussia's voice a soothing, reassuring murmur in his ears, he began to loosen up and lean into his touch. This was…unexpected. He could fell tears welling up in his eyes at the sudden change and comforting gestures, and he could do nothing to stop them.

"D-did you just bring me back here to watch me cry?"

"Nah, I just wanted to make you feel better. Let you get it out," Prussia corrected him softly, gently running his fingers through Romano's hair and kissing his forehead. Romano let out a shaky breath, leaning into the Prussian's touch.

"Grazie..." he murmured softly, pushing himself up to kiss Gilbert.

With every fiber of his being, he hoped he hadn't misread Prussia's intentions. The night had been the best date of his life, even if it wasn't supposed to be theirs and it had gotten weird at the end. Prussia had acted like he wanted to be with him, and Romano hadn't even had to pretend to be better than he was. If anyone could understand him, it had to be Prussia.

Gilbert's breath caught at the kiss, but then his mind seemed to catch up with him, and he pulled Romano closer and kissed him back hard.

They ended up in a tangle of limbs on the couch, panting as they separated. Romano's cheeks were flushed, and he pushed up on Prussia's chest. The albino grinned up at him, reaching up to brush dark curls from Romano's face.

"Might have to thank West after all," he commented, wrapping his and around Romano as he sat up. The Italian shifted with him, throwing his legs over Prussia's lap.

"You knew they set us up?" he asked, looking up at him in surprise. All he got was a shrug and a grin in reply, making him snort.

"Hey, do you feel better now, then?" Prussia asked, his voice a little softer again as he brushed Romano's hair behind his ear. Romano paused, trying to sort through his tumultuous emotions. At the moment, the strongest were relief and a little thrill of excitement and satisfaction at being held the way Prussia was doing.

"Yeah...There's no way in hell I'm thanking Veneziano though," he snorted, falling silent for a moment before he spoke again, "But I might make his favorite pasta soon. Pure coincidence."

Prussia laughed, and a smile tugged at Romano's lips. People didn't usually laugh at the things he said.

They continued to sit there for a while, Romano's head slowly falling to rest on Prussia's shoulder. The albino couldn't seem to keep his hands off the other; they drifted over his arms and rested on his thigh, occasionally coming up to run through his hair. His warm, wandering touches soothed Romano until he was nearly asleep, his face pressed to the warm hollow of Prussia's neck.

"What do you think they're up to now?"

Romano snorted, hitting Prussia's chest with the heel of his hand for breaking the silence with such a stupid question.

"Does it matter? They fucking set us up."

"I know, but I'm not complaining. Can I have another kiss?"

Lovino snorted, but shifted in Prussia's arms to peck his lips lightly. Despite that, Prussia pouted.

"That's not a kiss! Come on, I know you can do better than that-you're Italian, after all."

"Shut up! First you have to tell me why you started acting so weird!" Lovino whined, trying to look indignant.

Prussia paused, looking a little sheepish. His ruby eyes dropped to Romano's chest, and the Italian's heart plummeted similarly. He was sure he wouldn't like what he was going to hear.

"You were…talking about me in your sleep," Prussia admitted softly, "I mean, it was in Italian, so I didn't know if it was good or bad, but I really, really wanted it to be good…When you said you didn't hate me, I wanted to kiss you right there, but then you said you were scared and…" He trailed off, shrugging a little as if he was embarrassed about suddenly spilling everything like this. "I just wanted to make you happy, you know?"

Lovino's cheeks flushed lightly, pleased to hear that. He pulled Prussia close again, running his fingers through his short silver hair as he kissed him deeply. He tried to express just how much he appreciated what Prussia tried to do for him. They might not be as perfect as their younger brothers, but Romano couldn't help but feel that this was something worth exploring.

There was silence for a moment after they parted, their lips still nearly brushing. Romano's fingertips slipped slowly from his hair, brushing over his jaw and down his chest.

"That's better," Prussia breathed, a smile spreading slowly over his face.

"If it was, you still wouldn't be talking," Romano grumbled, but his voice was as soft as his touch. He settled against Prussia's chest again, feeling the blond smile against his hair as they resumed cuddling.


	3. Silence

**A/N:** A little fic for Prussia's birthday.

* * *

 _"Silence"_

All morning, Gilbert waited for Lovino to say something. It wasn't as if the Italian didn't know today was his birthday; he'd been going on about it all week. Even today, he kept dropping subtle hints, though he didn't want to say anything outright. He wanted Lovino to _remember_.

He didn't.

Early in the afternoon, they sat at the table together, Gilbert staring intently at Lovino as the Italian sipped some dark red juice and read. The weird thing was, he wasn't even snapping at the Prussian like he usually did when Gilbert stared-and he ended up staring _a lot_ , so it wasn't like he was basing that observation on one experience. He knew Lovino, dammit.

"So..." he began finally.

"If you say anything to keep me from finishing this page, I'll kick you," Lovino threatened, his hazel eyes fixing Gilbert with a Look just long enough to let him know he meant business. Feeling his heart sink, Gilbert swallowed his words. He'd thought the first birthday he celebrated while dating Lovino would be filled with good food and kisses, but so far there had been nothing of the sort.

"Hey, come with me," Lovino began, standing suddenly. Gilbert looked up hopefully; was this it?

"I need to go shopping, and you're carrying my bags," Lovino finished, sending Gilbert's heart plummeting again.

"What!? Didn't you already go this week?" he whined, spreading out over the chair instead. Lovino huffed irritably and glared, crossing his arms.

"I forgot a few things. Get up, dammit."

Grumbling under his breath, Gilbert pulled himself to his feet and trailed after his boyfriend reluctantly. If Lovino wasn't going to celebrate him, he should at least leave him to play video games and drink beer all day or something. Maybe one of his online friends would remember his birthday.

Against Gilbert's better judgment, Lovino drove. Gilbert could hear him grumbling about the weather under his breath and resisted the urge to comment on how much colder it must be in Germany. Lovino would just snap at him that that's why they were in Italy, duh.

"You know what today is?" he asked suddenly, trying to sound nonchalant. Lovino just glanced at him and back at the road before answering.

"January 18, right?" he asked, sounding as if he wasn't interested.

"It's my birthday," Gilbert reminded him, pouting slightly.

"Oh. I thought it was tomorrow. Happy birthday, then," Lovino replied.

He'd finally said it, but there obviously wasn't any heart behind it. Gilbert knew the Italian could be difficult, but he thought he cared more than this. What if Lovino was already losing interest in him? He wasn't ready to let the Italian go. Things had seemed so good lately too...

They fell silent again, and Gilbert began to play with the radio moodily. He came across a few songs he normally liked to sing along to, but barely lingered on them for a moment before changing the station again. That at least got a concerned look from his boyfriend.

"Look, we can watch a movie or something when we get home, okay?" Lovino suggested finally, scowling a little as if Gilbert's fidgeting was bothering him.

"Yeah, sure," Gilbert agreed, grumbling, and he slumped back in his seat to stare out the window. That was when he realized they were nowhere near the store Lovino usually dragged him to.

"Hey, where are we going?" he asked, whipping around to stare accusingly at the brunet.

Lovino just rolled his eyes, his disinterested attitude never faltering. "I can only get the things I need in Rome. It'll just be a few hours."

Great. A few hours being dragged around by someone who was apparently doing his best to prove he didn't care about Gilbert. The Prussian could feel a lump rising in his throat.

The rest of the drive was mostly silent. Lovino reached over a few times to take Gilbert's hand, and while it soothed the hurt a bit, it couldn't make it go away. He was glad when they pulled up at the big house the Italian brother's shared and parked at the curb. As they made their way up to the front door, Lovino's fingers slipped into the spaces between Gilbert's. The Prussian's heart and throat ached as he wondered if this was all an act. Lovino hadn't even tried to give him a birthday kiss yet...

The first sign should have been the fact that Lovino didn't even search for his key. He just reached for the door and pushed it open, nudging Gilbert in a little ahead of him. The Prussian took a slow step into the darkened entryway.

The moment his foot crossed the threshold, the entire place burst into light and color. Feliciano was the first to reach him, throwing his arms around Gilbert with a shout of "Surprise!"

They were all there-Ludwig, Elizaveta, Roderich, Vash, Lili, Francis, Antonio, Arthur, Mathias...Gilbert rarely saw them all in one place except for meetings. For them to be celebrating his birthday...Usually, he was lucky to get even a handful to go out for drinks or something. He could feel tears of emotion pricking his eyes, but fought them back-the Awesome Prussia didn't cry, especially not over something so sappy. It was a few moments before he realized Feliciano was babbling in his ear.

"...And 'Vino said we should do something for you, since you don't get to do a lot with all of us lately, and he wanted to make your birthday really special! Wait until you try the food! 'Vino's probably checking on it now; he doesn't really trust us with it, but he had to be with you-"

Gilbert cut him off there with a smile and a pat on the head, thanking him before he slipped off to the kitchen. It took longer than he would have liked to get there, since everyone stopped him to wish him a happy birthday. Luckily, they could see he had a goal in mind and didn't try to trap him with conversation.

Sure enough, Lovino was standing at the stove and muttering to himself over a pot of...something. Gilbert was pretty sure he was catching a whiff of potato from whatever was in it. Grinning, he slipped up behind his boyfriend and wrapped his arms around his waist.

"You really went out of your way, huh?" he asked, kissing his way up the Italian's neck. Lovino shivered, but his attempts to push Gilbert back were halfhearted at best.

"N-not really. Your brother and Feliciano got in touch with most of them..."

Gilbert snorted and kissed him, not wanting to listen to his protests. Lovino melted into it, the way he always did when he'd been stressed for a while and everything was okay now. His arms wrapped around Gilbert's neck, and there was a familiar, adorable flush on his cheeks when they separated.

"Thanks," Gilbert murmured, short but sincere, "There's just one thing..."

Lovino looked nervous for a moment, but nodded at Gilbert to go on. This was the Lovino he was used to, quick to embarrass and overreact, but so open that it was endearing anyway.

"This would still mean a lot even if you hadn't pretended to forget," he pointed out, serious now, "I'd have been happy just spending the day with you and doing things we like. All you had to do was kiss me and say 'happy birthday' when you woke up this morning."

Lovino nodded, swallowing hard. He looked relieved though, and Gilbert smiled softly.

"I'll remember that. For next year," Lovino replied. The insinuation and Lovino's tiny smile sent butterflies tumbling through Gilbert's stomach, but it was nothing compared to what came next.

Lovino pulled himself closer, pushing himself up on his toes so his lips brushed Gilbert's when he spoke. Gilbert's arms tightened automatically, his eyes fixed on Lovino's soft expression.

"Alles Gute zum Geburtstag, Liebling," he murmured clumsily, the pink tint of his cheeks deepening at his own awkward German. Gilbert could tell he'd practiced the phrase, but before he could offer praise, Lovino's lips were on his. It was soft, sweet, and held the promise of more to come, and it sent Gilbert's head spinning.

This time, when they separated, Gilbert was grinning. "Come on," he insisted, grabbing Lovino's hand to drag him back to the other room, "Leave the cooking to Feli. We're going to enjoy this party you set up."


	4. Connections

**A/N:** I interpreted "connections" as the relationships in their lives leading them to end up at the same Christmas party. Christmas because that's when I actually wrote this. Request from auto-alchemechanicist

* * *

 _"Connections"_

"Hey kid," Prussia greeted cheerfully, dropping onto the sofa next to Romano, "Didn't expect to see you here." He ruffled the Italian's dark hair playfully.

"Don't call me 'Kid,'" Romano snapped, tryng to straighten his hair with his fingers, "I'm just here to keep an eye on Veneziano."

"Spain isn't here, is he?" Prussia asked, looking around.

"No," Romano grumbled, glaring at him to mask a sort of disgruntled curiousity, "I don't go everywhere with him, you know."

"Yeah, but I thought you guys were dating or something?" Prussia asked, tilting his head.

Romano stuttered, his face turning bright red. It took him a moment to get his thoughts together, and he finally managed to sputter, "N-no!"

"Really?" Prussia asked, his expression lighting up, "So…if I brought this out…?" The Prussian pulled a winkled plant from his pocket and dangled it over their heads. Romano stared at it for a moment before recognizing the wilted mess as mistletoe.

"I hope you weren't planning to use that on my brother," Romano told him, leaning in to press his lips to the albino's.

He pulled back a moment later to see a very pink-faced albino and no mistletoe in sight. "Well, I might have been," Prussia admitted in a grumble, "But I think I like this use better. Kiss me again?"

Romano rolled his eyes and laughed softly, leaning in to kiss him again and wrap an arm around his neck.

* * *

 **A/N:** Just to clarify—Gil brought it for Feli because he didn't think he'd ever get away with it with Lovi.


	5. Complaints

**A/N:** Based on the imagineyourotp prompt "Imagine Person A of your OTP really getting attached by how warm Person B makes the bed when they fall asleep together/cuddle so when Person B comes home from some trip Person A yells at them because their bed was so cold."

* * *

 _"Complaints"_

There it was—the sound of the door closing behind Gilbert. He was finally home, and Lovino couldn't possibly be more relieved. He couldn't let on to that though, right? Of course not.  
Instead, he huffed and stomped to the front hall, where the albino was just hanging up his coat. Hearing the sound of his lover's heavy footsteps, the Prussian turned and grinned.  
"Missed me so much you had to coming running the minute I got in the door, huh?" Gilbert teased, nearly smirking at him. He couldn't resist an opportunity to rile up the hotheaded Italian any time the chance presented itself.  
"Shut the hell up!" Lovino snapped, crossing his arms over his chest and ignoring the way Gilbert's smile faltered just a little bit, "Do you think you can just leave me here to sleep alone? This house is fucking cold, asshole!"  
Gilbert started at him for a moment, as if he was having trouble believing that Lovino was really yelling at him about the temperature of their bed when he was gone. Finally, a snort of laughter escaped him, and he stepped forward to sweep the brunette into his arms.  
"You pick the weirdest things to complain about," he murmured in his ear as he walked, "Come on, let's go take a nap now—I promise to keep you warm~"


	6. Jealousy

**A/N:** I actually have a lot of Prumano ideas that are better than the shit I've been spewing lately, but hopefully this can hold people over until I find my motivation. This one's based on the imagineyourotp prompt "Imagine Person B of your OTP getting a pet for Person A, but soon became jealous of the pet for getting so much of Person A's attention."

* * *

 _"Jealousy"_

Lovino tapped his foot on the ground, watching Gilbert play with his new puppy. The Italian had never been particularly fond of the animals, but he couldn't deny Gilbert one when he loved them so much. Since they'd moved in together, the albino didn't get to see the dogs he'd owned with his brother as much. As he saw it, it was the least he could have done.

Still, this was getting annoying. Gilbert had barely looked up from the squirming furball in nearly half an hour. Lovino let out an exaggerated huff, hoping to catch the other man's attention. Unfortunately, it didn't work. Gilbert glanced up at him, but then it was back to the puppy. Annoyed, he sighed and retreated to the bedroom.

Gilbert didn't show up until several hours later, but Lovino's eyelids fluttered when he felt the mattress shift under the albino's weight. He could hear the puppy yapping away in whatever enclosure Gilbert had found for him, but decided he didn't care the moment the other's well-muscled arm wrapped securely around his waist.

"I know what you were trying to do," Gilbert murmured, his lips brushing Lovino's ear when he spoke. The Italian shivered, but forced himself not to react. He could feel Gil smirk at that. Damn, he knows me too well…

"How about I make it up to you now?" Gil asked, his hands already sliding down to the Italian's hip.

Lovino gave up any pretense of being asleep, rolling over and pinning Gilbert down.

"You'd better be fucking impressive after that shit you pulled."


	7. Morning After Maybe

**A/N:** Sometimes I write bits and pieces that pop into my head on my phone or tablet without any real context. This is one of those pieces.

* * *

 _"Morning After Maybe"_

Gil bit back a groan as the sunlight assaulted his eyes through his closed lids, making him roll over instinctively. Still, the damage was done, and within the next few minutes, he managed to pry his eyes open. The sight that greeted him made his eyes widen and his breath catch.

Romano.

The Italian was sprawled out on the bed next to him, the blankets covering him from the waist down. His face was smooth and content in sleep, though his dark hair formed a messy halo around it. His olive skin lit up as the sunlight crept across it, and Gil's eyes tracked its progress. It wasn't until the light reached his face, making him stir and groan softly, that the Prussian realized he'd been staring. He couldn't help it—when Lovino wasn't distracting people with his foul mouth, he was gorgeous.

Now, though, he had to think. A quick glance around told him this wasn't his bed, so it was probably the other man's. He didn't remember coming here or anything that might have happened since then. They both seemed to be naked, but that didn't mean a whole lot…If Lovino was anything like his brother, it was entirely possible that they'd just been sleeping in the same bed. Still, he had to decide—get out of here now and risk leaving Lovino trying to fill in the blanks of a possible one night stand, or stick around and maybe (finally) snag a sexy Italian for himself?


	8. Unspoken

**A/N:** I just needed to write something for these two, and I'm a big dumb sucker for lazy domestic shit.

* * *

 _"Unspoken"_

The first thing Gilbert was aware of was a knee digging into his side. Maybe it was an elbow; when it came to Lovino, one could never really be sure. He groaned and pushed the Italian away from him, earning himself a kick as Lovino rolled over. He liked to tell himself he would push the brunet out of bed if he wasn't so cute. On the other hand, he couldn't stay in bed forever. The cocoon of warmth and the soft skin of the man next to him were wonderful, but he'd get restless if he stayed there too long, and Lovino would yell at him if he fidgeted.

Sighing, he slid out of bed and went to start the coffee. He used the blend the Italian had brought over when they started sleeping together. His gaze wandered to the window as he waited for it to brew, a smile creeping across his lips.

He didn't see the woman outside walking her dog. Instead, he saw the way Lovino looked up at him when he wasn't getting his way. He saw the way those full, soft lips pouted, his hazel eyes flashing with childish bursts of anger. He could hear the words Lovino snapped at him so often echoing in his ears, but instead of the annoyance he was supposed to feel, he found himself chuckling.

He didn't seen the bird hopping on the windowsill either. As it peeked into the kitchen, his mind was filled with images of Lovino in his bed. It didn't matter if his cheeks were flushed with arousal or smooth with sleep—either way, Gilbert thought he was one of the most beautiful people he'd ever seen. Lovino always rejected those words, no matter how teasingly he said them.

The coffee maker beeped, bringing Gilbert back to reality. He filled two cups, Lovino's slightly larger than his own. The Italian had made it very clear several months ago that Italian roasts were too rich for the large mugs he used when his brunet lover wasn't around. He set Lovino's cup on the table next to the bed, leaning down to kiss the other awake—if he wasn't careful, he would wake up in a huff and wouldn't even appreciate the coffee Gilbert had made.

It seemed he'd played his cards right, because there was no hostility in Lovino's hazel eyes as they fluttered open. The brunet blinked at him for a moment, then his expression warmed as he recognized where he was and who he was looking at. By now, Gilbert's room was as familiar and comfortable as his own. Gilbert stepped back as Lovino sat up, reaching instinctively for the coffee. Their routines rarely changed, and they'd fallen into them long ago.

"Buongiorno," Lovino murmured, taking his first sip. Gilbert grinned and sat back on the bed, Lovino shifting to accommodate him. The Prussian admired the way the light fell across his sun-kissed skin and picked out the auburn highlights of his dark hair. Lovino was more focused on the coffee, but when he looked up, a small smile tugged at his lips.

"What?" he asked, his voice still soft enough that it didn't break the moment. Gilbert shook his head, not wanting to try to put his feelings into words just yet. He had a sneaking suspicion as to what those words might be, but it was too early, and he was too comfortable with Lovino leaning against his shoulder.

"Tell you later," he promised, running his fingers through the tousled brunet locks.

"Whatever," Lovino mumbled in reply, though there was no bite to his words. He took another sip of his coffee, and Gilbert found himself smiling like an idiot at the relaxed atmosphere of their morning.


	9. Snowball Fight

**A/N:** redeyesblackeagle on tumblr asked for a Prumano fic, so here's some fluffy, established relationship Christmas stuff~

* * *

 _"Snowball Fight"_

"We should have a snowball fight."

Romano raised a brow, staring across the table at his boyfriend incredulously. Prussia simply grinned back at him through the steam rising from his mug of hot chocolate. Romano could hardly believe he could stomach the crap, but this was a level of Christmas cheer that he didn't think he could even begin to get behind.

"No way. That sounds awful," he replied, his lip curling in disgust. He turned back to his paper, absolutely not feeling guilty about Prussia's crestfallen expression.

"Just a little one?" the blond begged, "Just you, me, West, Veneziano, France, and Spain?"

Romano stared at him incredulously, mentally coming to terms with the face that he probably wouldn't be finding out much of today's news anytime soon. "How is that little?" he asked in disbelief, "Little is you and me, not an entire party!"

Prussia pouted, but his burgundy eyes quickly lit with hope again. "Fine," he replied quickly, leaning forward again, "Just you and me then?"

Romano hesitated, but when Prussia fixed him with that hopeful, puppy-dog look, even he couldn't say no. Slowly, he nodded.

"Later though."

Prussia cheered, apparently not deterred by the restrictions. He gulped down the rest of his hot chocolate, hissing as it burned his throat. Romano rolled his eyes and sighed, not bothering to offer any words of concern or comfort. He was used to this kind of behavior.

Romano was still regretting his inability to say no to his lover as he stood in the snow, bundled up so only his eyes were showing. Prussia had a scarf wrapped around his neck as well, but it only covered his neck. The paler man's cheeks and nose were pink, but he was grinning brightly.

"I don't want to do this," he protested one last time, but it was weak at best. Before he could say anything else, a tightly packed ball of snow hit his stomach squarely. He knew Prussia could throw a lot harder than that, and he wasn't sure if he should be pleased that Prussia was keeping his weaknesses in mind or offended that he didn't think Romano could handle the full force of his attack.

"Ehi!" he yelped, dropping down to scoop up a handful of snow for himself. It wasn't nearly as compact as Prussia's, but the way it exploded in the Germanic nation's face was satisfying enough to make up for that. Romano knew he was in for a fight by the way Prussia sputter and stared at him, wide-eyed. Suddenly, he didn't regret saying yes anymore.

Romano shifted a little, pillowing his head on Prussia's chest. The other's pale fingers ran lightly though his hair, watching the firelight catch the strands and turn them a bright reddish-gold.

"If I fall asleep, you're not going to draw a dick on my face or something, are you?" Romano asked, frowning slightly. Despite the expression, his gaze was soft and sleepy. Prussia quickly decided he liked that look on him.

"Since you asked, I won't," he replied with a grin, "No promises for next time though."

Romano snorted with amusement, and Prussia felt a flicker of satisfaction. It wasn't much, but it was one step closer to earning that beautiful smile Romano rarely showed.

"Sleep, Prinzessin," he urged, smiling at the way the pet name made Romano's cheeks flush, "I'll still be here when you wake up."

"I wasn't worried about that," Lovino grumbled, but he nuzzled into the Prussian's chest and let his eyes fall closed.

Prussia continued to stroke his hair lightly, watching the Italian's ribs rise and fall. Normally, the brunet wasn't the most graceful sleeper, but right now he was so tired that he barely moved in his sleep.

The firelight began to fade slowly as Prussia watched his lover sleep, but he couldn't bring himself to move to put another log on. He was sure it wouldn't disturb Romano—the guy slept like the dead—but it suddenly seemed like too much work to move him. Instead, he pulled a blanket over them and curled around the Italian.

"Buon Natale, tesoro," he whispered clumsily in the sleeping man's ear, smiling to himself as he drifted off.


	10. Promise

**A/N:** This is my secret santa fic for LadyInfierno! The prompt was Gil as a babysitter for the cute little Italians.

* * *

Gilbert didn't watch the kids next door because he needed the money. Of course, that was the answer he gave whenever someone might tease him, but the reality was that he just liked kids. More than that, Lovino and Feliciano were special.

Sometimes he would bring his own little brother with him. Ludwig and Feliciano were both seven, and though Ludwig was much more awkward about expressing his fondness, they were best friends. Gilbert liked seeing his little brother happy, especially when he had a hand in it.

And then there was Lovino. He was only ten, three years younger than Gilbert, but it was easy to see that he was going to become a charming person. He had bright hazel eyes and a brighter smile, and he was full of life and passion and a fiery temper. He could be a handful at time, but his sweet moments more than made up for it in Gilbert's eyes.

* * *

He was supposed to watch them again tonight. It meant cancelling plans to play video games with his friends, but he could live with that. Seeing the Italians' bright, smiling faces was almost as good as racking up an impressive score, and more than that, he hated the thought of someone else spending all that time with them. He wanted to be special to them.

He was pulling on his jacket when Ludwig tugged at his sleeve with his small, pudgy hand. His big blue eyes stared up at his older brother, and Gilbert already knew that whatever Luddy was about to ask, it was an automatic yes.

"Can I come with?" he asked in his quiet, steady voice. Though he was young, Ludwig had a terrific grasp on grammar and such. It filled Gilbert with pride every time he thought about how smart his brother would grow up to be.

"Of course, bud," he agreed, grinning and getting the little blond's coat out for him. Ludwig put it on without help, then reached out for the hand Gilbert offered. The older boy called out to their mother that they were leaving, and then they headed next door.

The first thing to greet them was Feliciano's squeal of happiness. The little brunette blur came flying out of nowhere, throwing his tiny arms around Ludwig's neck first. Ludwig stumbled back, surprised, but after a moment he hugged his friend back tentatively. Gilbert grinned at them for a moment, then turned his attention to the boy's mother.

"Thanks for doing this again," Chiara Vargas sighed, offering him a smile. She seemed tired, but happy-she probably deserved a night off.

"It's nothing," Gilbert assured her with a grin, shoving his hands into his pockets, "Have a good time."

She smiled, fiddling with a few aspects of her appearance as she waited for her husband. In the interim, Feliciano finally let go of Ludwig and dashed to the bottom of the stairs.

"Lovi!" he called up, "Gilbert's here!"

Gilbert noticed he didn't mention Ludwig, but then, Lovino had never been very fond of the younger boy. That probably had something to do with the fact that he and Feliciano had once been as fascinated with him as they still were with Gilbert. Lovino was the type of person who needed space, and excitable, curious kids tended to be clingy.

The other Italian appeared at the top of the stairs a few moments later, his round cheeks flushing at the sight of their babysitter. Gilbert wanted to squeal and pinch those adorable cheeks, but that would totally ruin the image he had going as a professional. A young professional, but still. The point was, he had a reputation to uphold.

"Alright, I guess we're ready!" Chiara chirped finally, interrupting before Gilbert could even greet Lovino. The albino straightened up with a grin, ready to see them out. Lovino waved shyly from the top of the stairs, and Feliciano flew in for last-minute goodbye hugs. It was kind of adorable how affectionate the younger brunette was.

Finally, they were gone, and Lovino began to make his way tentatively down the stairs. Gilbert smiled at him invitingly-he'd noticed how well Lovino reacted to positive reinforcement, and he liked being a source of it. In return, Lovino offered him one of his shy, sweet smiles. Internally, Gilbert squealed at how cute he was. Sometimes, he thought Lovino was even cuter than Feliciano, though few people seemed to share his opinion.

"Hey, Lovi. How've you been?" he asked, ruffling the older brother's dark hair. Lovino fixed it with his short fingers, but he didn't scowl like Gil had seen him do when other people did that.

"M'good," he murmured, reaching for Gilbert's hand and clinging to it. He let him; it was nice to have a sign of affection like that. He knew Lovino was intelligent and well-spoken, but when he was feeling shy, he tended to use incomplete sentences and slur his words together. "Made you something."

At that, a bright grin split Gilbert's face. A present from Lovino was rare, definitely something to be cherished.

"Really? Do I get it now, or do I have to wait for Christmas?" he asked. Christmas was only a few days away, but he couldn't help but be excited about this.

Lovino's cheeks colored again, but he also smiled again.

"Y-you can have it now," he murmured, releasing Gilbert's hand. He hurried back up the stairs, Gilbert's eyes fixed affectionately on his back. That kid was special; of that much he was sure.

While he waited, he kept an eye on Ludwig and Feliciano. The little Italian had dragged him off to see his new puzzle. It was a mess right now, but from the box tossed over by the wall, Gilbert could see that it was a scene from the Wizard of Oz-Dorothy sleeping among the poppies. It was bright and soft, and Gilbert couldn't help but think that that kind of thing suited Feliciano.

After a bit, Lovino's soft footsteps echoed off the stairs again. Gilbert greeted him with a smile, curious about the piece of paper he could see fluttering behind the younger boy's back.

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, Lovino hesitated again. His cheeks were bright red, and he kept his gaze on his feet. Gilbert's heart fluttered at how unbearably cute the whole display was. he crouched down so he was on the same level as the younger boy, smiling at him encouragingly.

"Can I see it?" he asked hopefully, holding out his hand. Lovino's blush deepened until Gilbert was afraid he'd pass out, but then he nodded. He brought the paper out and laid it carefully in Gilbert's hand, which surprised the older boy-normally when Lovino was like this, he smashed things into Gilbert's palm.

He looked at the paper, oohing and ahhing over it appropriately. He could there were figures, but it was done in watercolor and the paint had run until he wasn't sure what exactly the people were supposed to be doing. Finally, Lovino pointed a pudgy finger at two figures smiling-or at least, Gilbert assumed they were supposed to be smiling.

"S'me an' you," Lovino informed him, doing that shy-slurring thing again. Gilbert smiled brightly, opening his arms in hopes of a hug.

"Thank you. I love it," he assured him, completely sincere.

Lovino stepped forward and hugged him, hiding his face in Gilbert's shoulder. For a moment, Gilbert thought that would be it. It was already a big step, seeing as Lovino wasn't too big on physical contact. He let go when he felt Lovino release him, but the younger boy didn't leave completely. Instead, he stopped, his big eyes fixed on Gilbert's face.

Then he leaned in for a kiss, going for the lips.

Gilbert couldn't help but pull back, surprised. He'd never expected something so bold from Lovino, especially not something of that nature. Still, now that he thought about it, it made sense. Lovino let him get away with things he wouldn't let even his own parents do.

As Gilbert pulled away. Lovino's expression crumpled. He blinked rapidly, but fat, shiny tears still gathered in his eyes and dribbled down his cheeks. Guilt settled like a stone in his stomach; he hated seeing someone he cared about like this.

"Hey, no, don't cry," he begged, wiping away Lovino's tears with gentle fingers, "Y-you just...you surprised me, is all."

"But...but I gave you a present," Lovino whimpered, "Papa always gives mama a kiss after he gives her a present. And then they say they love each other."

Gilbert blinked at that. He glanced over at Ludwig and Feliciano again, relieved to see that they were still wrapped up in their own little world. He gave Lovino his complete attention, a gentle smile crossing his features.

"Yeah, but...your mom and dad are adults. We're kids, and kids don't really do that kind of thing," he explained as gently as he could. At least that gave Lovino a more concrete reason why he couldn't kiss Gilbert. By the time he was "old enough," he probably wouldn't want to kiss Gilbert anymore. The thought kind of hurt, but he just assumed that was because he was a little starved for attention himself.

"But...I love you," Lovino replied, wiping at his eyes himself now. Gilbert could tell he was wavering though; it would take only a little more prompting to get him to give up entirely.

"Y-yeah, but...If you tell me that when you're older, it's like...more important. Like you have to go through some stuff before you can kiss somebody like that," he explained, a bit wildly, "I-it's like a quest in a video game!"

Lovino just blinked at him at that. "I don't play video games. Feli likes them more."

Gilbert bit back a sigh and sat back. He didn't know what else to say right now. Maybe if he had a moment to gather his thoughts...

"Can I hug you?" Lovino asked after a moment, breaking into his musings again. Gilbert blinked, then grinned and nodded.

"Yeah, of course! Hugs are fine all the time!" he laughed, opening his arms for Lovino. The younger boy stepped into them again, making Gilbert's heart flutter. Two hugs in one night felt like some kind of record with Lovino.

"Here, I'll tell you what," he murmured, reeling at his words before he even spoke and still unable to stop himself, "When we grow up, I'll marry you if you still love me. How's that?" He could feel Lovino nod, but more prominent was the pounding of his own heart.

"Can we watch a movie?" Feliciano called over suddenly, breaking into their moment. Gilbert blushed, though he didn't know why, and pulled back, nodding.

"Yeah, sure," he agreed, "You have something in mind?" He stood and took Lovino's hand, leading him over to where his brother and Gilbert's had been playing. Lovino ignored them both, still watching Gilbert as Feliciano handed him a DVD case. Gilbert put it in as Ludwig and Feliciano scrambled onto the couch. Lovino stayed standing until Gilbert sat, then crawled into his lap.

Well, he could live with that.

* * *

They grew up and grew apart, just like anyone else. Gilbert couldn't help but be disappointed when Lovino decided he was too old to sit in his lap anymore, but it was to be expected. It almost felt like a personal offense when they didn't need a babysitter anymore, leaving him without much an excuse to see Lovino anymore. Feliciano and Ludwig stayed close friends, but the three years between him and Lovino seemed too far to bridge for a long time. Lovino became closed off to him, and Gilbert was surprised by the loss he felt. Still, it hurt worse when Lovino went off to college without so much as a word to him.

Their contact over the next five years was sporadic at best. Every time Gilbert saw Lovino, he was struck again by how beautiful he'd grown up to be. Sometimes, he wondered if Lovino was the reason he wasn't straight. He constantly thought back to the night he'd tried to kiss him as children and wondered if he could have done something differently, something that would have put Lovino in his life now.

He hadn't seen him for almost four months before the day in came into the auto shop where Gilbert worked. At first, he didn't realize who it was-it was just another pair of shoes tapping out the pattern of someone's gait as he focused on the undercarriage above him. He had one earbud in, bobbing his head along slightly. At first, he didn't notice when the footsteps came to a stop near him.

"So, do you just not care who comes to stare at your junk while you work?" a familiar voice asked suddenly.

Pulled out of the zone he was in, Gilbert blinked a few times and slid partly out from under the car. He jerked the earbud out, gaping up at the Italian leaning against the car. After a moment, he remembered how to speak.

"Lovi! Hey," he laughed awkwardly, earning an eye roll. Damn, Lovino had gotten good at that. If there was a category in the Olympics for eye rolling, he might even win the gold.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. He stayed on his back, figuring that if he fainted, at least he wouldn't have to fall. He tried to remember the last time he and Lovino had spoken. Over Christmas, he might have yelled something about the dogs causing a stink in the neighborhood...Lovino had developed a bitchy streak wider than his entire body.

Suddenly, Lovino looked shy. It brought back memories of him as a child, which tugged at Gilbert's heart. He'd never really gotten over that cute little kid who seemed to think the world of him.

"Just...wanted to ask you something..." he admitted finally, falling back into that mumble-and-slur Gilbert remembered so well. So he'd never grown out of that either, huh?

"Yeah?" he prompted gently, watching the Italian's face. There was still a little baby fat in his cheeks, but his features were beautiful and delicate, and his tan skin looked soft and flawless. Gilbert mentally cursed himself, knowing these observations would find themselves in his dreams for years to come.

"That promise you made..." Lovino mumbled finally, and somehow Gilbert knew exactly what he was talking about, "You ever intend to make good on that?"

Gilbert sat up so fast, he whacked his head on the runner of the car. He swore and held a hand protectively over the spot, but most of his attention was focused on staring up at Lovino in shock. The brunette's cheeks colored a fantastic shade of red, and Gilbert remembered all his old worries about Lovino passing out from the rushes of blood.

"You...you still wanna marry me?" he asked. He didn't bother to hide his surprise-he and Lovino weren't exactly on bad terms, but they'd hardly had any contact in years.

Lovino blushed even deeper somehow, digging the toe of his shiny dress shoe into the dirt on the shop floor. Gilbert just stared silently, waiting for his answer. The silence seemed to drag, broken only by the clink of metal tools, but Gilbert didn't feel the need to break it or save Lovino from its awkwardness.

"Well...Maybe marriage is a bit forward," he finally admitted shyly, "But I...I was kind of hoping you might consider dating me?"

Gilbert continued to stare for a moment, but then his expression softened into a smile. He got to his feet, making Lovino shrink back nervously. Had he always been this much taller, or had Lovino just not grown much? He seemed tiny now.

"I thought you'd forgotten that," he admitted, "Or at the very least, you didn't want it anymore. Why are you bringing it up now?"

Lovino shrugged, but after a moment, he took a deep breath. "I'm graduating soon. I...just thought that was a good time to get back to what I...really want."

Gilbert smiled and opened his arms. Just like he'd done that night. And just like that night, Lovino stepped into them, burying his face in Gilbert's shoulder.

"Have I earned the right to kiss you yet?" he asked after a moment.

Gilbert just chuckled and tilted his head down, allowing Lovino to finally, finally press their lips together.


	11. I Belong to Your Heart

**A/N:** Just a tumblr drabble that got out of hand. I might come back to it later bc I live for putting Lovi through hell ~Saya

* * *

Lovino frowned down at the sheet of paper in his hands, hardly able to believe he'd pulled this assignment. Plenty of people would have given an arm to have it, so maybe it was good that someone like him, someone who didn't care, actually had. At least he wouldn't be tempted to turn into some kind of groupie for this band, the Teutonic Eagles. What kind of name was that, anyway? Did it have something to do with Continental Drift? That would have been a better band name, in his opinion.

He got out of the car, straightening his perfectly tailored suit as he crossed the road and entered the building. He'd been told it was blue, but to him, it was just a dark gray. He didn't think he'd ever meet the person that would make his world burst into color.

"Hey, uh...Where can I find the Teu...Teutonic Eagles?" he asked a janitor, pausing just inside the door as the man looked up.

"Take a left and look for the red door," the man replied easily, pointing. Great. So this guy had found his soulmate so long ago that he had apparently forgotten that the world wasn't in color for everyone. Lovino stamped down his jealousy and nodded his thanks instead, heading in the direction he'd been pointed.

Luckily, he wouldn't need the colors to show him the way. He found a few vaguely familiar men slouching around outside one of the doors, looking bored.

"Hey," he greeted, scowling when he realized all three men were taller than him, "Are you guys the Teutonic Eagles?"

"Most of us," answered one with a deep voice and slight accent. He had spiky, pale hair and a scar over his eye. Even though it was fairly warm inside, he wore a striped scarf wrapped around his neck.

"Yeah. Gil's still entertaining his groupies. We can't get started without him," added another. His hair was pale and spiky too, but more windswept. Lovino would have placed his accept as one of the Nordic countries.

"If you're our new manager, you should go get him," the third encouraged. He was only a few inches taller than Lovino, but he still had the advantage. Lovino tried to focus on his eyes, but those eyebrows had a magnetic field of their own.

Lovino sighed, deciding not to ask for their names. He didn't want to give away just how out-of-touch he was with his new assignment. "Yeah, whatever. Which way is he?"

They all pointed, and Lovino started off. He could already tell this fourth guy would be the one that gave him the most trouble. He was probably only concerned with the fame and the groupies. He rounded the corner, following the noise of squeals, and found himself at the back of a small group. He stood on tiptoe to see over the crowd and-

His world burst into color. Red, blue, and the soft pinkish tone of pale skin rushed in to cover the person he'd made eye contact with. He was frozen for a moment, then ducked down to hide behind the group.

No. There was no way he was going to be the soulmate of one of these...these... _assholes_! Especially not the one entertaining groupies. He stood carefully and peeked again. The man was looking around frantically, his red eyes wide. His eyes swept over Lovino, but to the Italian's relief, there was no flicker of recognition. The man didn't know who in this crowd he'd made eye contact with.

Lovino snuck around the group and grabbed his arm, getting his attention. The man's head whipped around, hope filling his expression, but Lovino kept his own face neutral. His temper had already put his job in jeopardy, but he wouldn't let any other emotions do the same.

"Are you Gil?" he asked, and when the man nodded, he continued, "I'm your new manager. The rest of the guys said they can't get started without you, so you're coming with me."

"What? No!" Gil burst out, hope collapsing into fury, "I just saw-I can't leave now!"

Lovino ignored his protests, using his advantage of surprise to overpower Gil and drag him back before he could get his feet under him and fight back.

He could do this. He wasn't going to let himself fall in love just because some cosmic force said they were soulmates.

* * *

Lovino felt cold, then hot, then cold again. He scowled down at the paperwork in front of him, his shoulders so tense they could put marble to shame. He'd felt like this ever since that cutesy blond came prancing around, swearing up and down she was Gil's soulmate. He didn't remember her from that group he'd walked up to eight months ago, but she must have been there. She knew exactly when Gil had started to see in color.

"Relax, Lovi," his brother advised from the couch behind him, "He knows better. Even if you two aren't dating, he knows you're the one who made him see that." Feliciano wasn't supposed to be here, but Lovino let it slide. He didn't think he could be alone right now anyway. Arthur was the only one in the band he could stand most of the time, and he didn't know why Lovino was in a worse mood than usual.

When he didn't answer Feliciano, the younger brother sat up. He seemed to know that meant something. He stared at Lovino, and Lovino continued to stare at the meaningless words in front of him.

"You haven't told him?" Feliciano guessed finally, sounding incredulous. When Lovino's shoulders hunched higher, he let out a scoff of disbelief.

"You've been waiting your whole life to meet your soulmate! And don't start, I know how you are about all those romance movies. But now you've spent more than half a year with him, watching him flirt with groupies, and you haven't said a word."

"He's awful," Lovino grumbled finally, "And besides, he hates me."

"Because he thought you dragged him away from his soulmate," Feliciano countered, "He wouldn't hate you if he knew you were the soulmate."

Lovino just shrugged in response. There was a knot of guilt in his stomach and he was feeling cold again. This was on him. Still, he was surprised when Feliciano actually got up and made to leave.

"Don't let him get sucked into something under the wrong impression," he advised before he disappeared.

* * *

It took Lovino another two days to work up the courage to confront Gil. He caught the lead singer just as he was about to leave the dressing room, pushing him back inside and kicking the door shut behind them. He wondered if Gil could feel the sparks where their bare skin touched or if he was just succumbing to the idea of this soulmate bullshit.

"Hey! Let me go, asshole, I have a date!" Gil protested. He glared, but though he could easily have overpowered Lovino, he didn't try.

"With a liar," Lovino snapped back. He couldn't help himself. The knot in his stomach had only grown, leaving him in a worse mood than usual. He glared back into Gil's expression of muddled hurt, anger, confusion, and surprise.

"What are you talking about?" he asked. His voice was slow and careful, warning Lovino that if he didn't speak carefully, things could go very wrong between them. His courage started to fail, but the thought of that girl cooing lies to Gil refueled his anger.

"She's not your soulmate. She probably can't even see in color yet," he insisted, "I was standing behind that group. That was the first time I ever saw you in person. I-"

He broke off as Gil held up a hand. The albino was trembling slightly, his eyes blazing.

"Are you telling me," he began, his voice dangerously quiet, "That _you_ are my fucking soulmate? That you knew what happened right away and you lied to me? You let me hate you over a misunderstanding when we could have been...?" He stopped, every inch of him trembling with fury. When Lovino didn't answer, he pushed past him roughly.

"Ask her!" Lovino called after him, "Your shirt is blue. Ask her if she knows."

* * *

Gil disappeared for a week. He didn't show up for practices or meetings, and even Matthias didn't seem to know where he was. Lovino knew why, of course, and that knot of guilt seemed to solidify instead of going away like it was supposed to.

The band was discussing what they would do if Gil stopped showing up entirely when they door flew open and the man of the hour stormed in. He stomped right past the table, ignoring the greetings of his band mates, and grabbed Lovino by the front of his shirt.

Lovino tried to scramble away, but for once, Gil was using his full strength with him. His eyes blazed, but he didn't do anything Lovino expected. He expected screaming, shaking, maybe to be thrown to the ground, but what he got was a kiss.

It was a bruising, fierce, angry kiss, but it was still a kiss. Gil's mouth dominated his, more like he was making a statement about his anger than connecting with his soulmate. Before Lovino could react, he pulled back and dragged Lovino to another room, leaving the other three staring after them in shock.

"Fuck!" Gil snapped when they were alone, kicking the wall. Lovino shrank back from his anger, figuring the best plan was to keep his mouth shut. Gil paced, running his fingers roughly through his pale hair until it stuck up in all directions.

"You were right, okay? You were right. I asked her if red was a good color on me and she went with it. She thought I had a red shirt. You..." He stopped and ran a hand over his face, and Lovino suddenly realized how close to tears he was. He was moving before he even realized, taking Gil's hand gently into his.

"I know. I'm pathetic," he whispered, watching as Gil's eyes widened in shock, "You don't have to be with me. I'm boring and moody and just...me. I just didn't want you to be taken in by a lie."

He couldn't make eye contact. He stared at the X-eyed smiley face on Gil's shirt, feeling his heart pound against his ribs like a frantic, caged bird. He didn't know why so many romances claimed that as a good feeling. It was painful; he felt as trapped as the metaphorical bird.

"I'll leave," he continued as the stony silence piled up around them like snowdrifts, "At least I didn't get fired for my temper this time."

He turned to walk away, but pale, muscular arms wrapped around him, holding him in place. Gil's head settled into the crook of his neck, and his lips brushing against Lovino's skin when he spoke.

"Stay. Please. At least give us a chance."

* * *

 **Note:** Lovino was confusing Teutonic with Tectonic at the beginning.


End file.
